Lullaby
by cullenbanger9
Summary: Bella is fighting her dark past as she fights for her life. Her  husband, Edward, would do anything to save her. But can his love be enough to  save her and for her to forgive herself for her past? Rated M for adult  themes.
1. Medicating Perfection

_It's those pills that you don't need to take,  
>Medicating perfection, now that's a mistake.<br>I know that you're spent,  
>Just let me sing you to sleep.<em>

**EPOV**

I lay here holding the love of my life while she cries in pain. As each tear falls, my heart breaks a little more. It's killing me to watch her like this and there is nothing I can do. I would give anything to take her pain away, to make her whole again. I want to fix her, I want to be her hero and save the day, but I can't. Not this time.

The doctors are trying everything they can but her body is so weak, and they don't want to push her too hard. Her once brilliant eyes and bouncing step has been replaced with the dull stare of pain and defeat. Her body ripped open and ravaged by surgeon's knives and harsh treatments.

I will fight for her; I will not let her go. Not now, not ever. She is my life, my world, my everything. I cannot live in a world where she doesn't exist.

The day I met Bella Swan, my life was changed instantly. Bella and I worked in the same office building, but for different companies. I had noticed her several times but couldn't work up the nerve to speak to her. I was a quiet person and I tended to keep to myself. Some of my co-workers were friends with her colleagues so I was able to get some background information on her.

_I was walking out of the building one Friday afternoon and there she was perched on the steps. As I walked past her, she whistled and started yelling after me._

"_Hey," she said as she giggled._

"_Uh…hey."_

"_Are you ever gonna say anything to me?"_

"_Err...I'm shy," I stuttered. _

"_Well I'm not! Here's my number…use it!" she said as she pressed a piece of paper against my chest._

"_Umm...I am supposed to be meeting my brother for drinks later. Wanna go?"_

"_Sure. Where are you going?"_

"_Timber Crossing. I think that's the name of it. I am new in town and don't really know my way around."_

"_You mean Tiber Creek?" she laughed._

"_Yeah that's it."_

"_Cool. I live right down the street from there. Text me and I will give you my address."_

"_Ok. I'll pick you up around 10pm."_

"_Sweet. Later hot stuff," she said as she walked away shaking that sweet ass of hers._

_That night we met my brother, Emmett, and his friends. I watched as she worked the group, she was so bouncy and full of life. Everyone responded to her every move, her every laugh, her every word. Even Emmett was impressed with her, and that says a lot. Emmett, Bella and I left the bar and went downtown to another bar, Dixie's Tavern. Little did we know this bar would be a significant place in our lives. I could tell Emmett took a liking to Bella, she made him feel comfortable. And it was as if they had known each other for years._

"Oh god…it hurts so bad, Edward," Bella says as she rocked back and forth on the bed.

"I know baby. The medicine should kick in soon," I whisper as I pulled her close to me.

Bella doesn't deserve this; she's been through so much in her life before all of this. Her life before me was a bit dark and difficult. And in the ten years that we have been married, she's had her ups and downs. Her highs and her lows and I have been there with her through it all.

**BPOV**

"Will you sing me my lullaby, Edward? " I said as my body shivered.

"Of course love, you know I'd do anything for you," Edward said as he wrapped a blanket tightly around me and laid me down with him.

_You can rest easy tonight  
>Everything is going to be alright,<br>I promise.  
>Go to sleep and dream of me tonight;<br>Everything may not be perfect,  
>But at least we tried.<br>So tonight,  
>Sweet dream and sleep tight.<br>I've been trying so hard,  
>Can't get you out of my mind.<br>And if this is how it has to be,  
>Just promise you won't forget me,<br>And I'll leave you with this lullaby  
>Tonight.<em>

_**Flashback to age 13**_

"Isabella Swan, you are needed in the office," said a voice over the classroom intercom.

As I walked into the office, I was met by the school's guidance counselor, Mrs. Clearwater. She gave me a polite smile and walked me back to her office.

"Isabella, please take a seat. There are some things I would like to discuss with you."

"Yes, Mrs. Clearwater, but please call me Bella."

"Very well then, Bella. I have noticed some changes in you lately and so have some of your teachers. We are very concerned with your weight."

"My weight? What is wrong with my weight, Mrs. Clearwater?"

I tried to silently figure out where she was going with this. I haven't felt right for some time now, but I figured it was part of puberty or something. I was waking up in the middle of the night having to use the bathroom and to get a drink of water. And there have been the embarrassing moments of when I wet the bed. But I didn't dare tell my mom why I had to wash my sheets so much. I had used the excuse of a bloody nose once or twice and she was too busy to realize it was a lie. My mom was a realtor; she had been since I was an infant. And this year happened to be the most successful, leaving little time for me. She was either always on the phone or out showing properties. I looked up at Mrs. Clearwater who was now staring at me with cold eyes.

"Bella, I am going to be as straight forward with you as I can. Are you making yourself throw up after you eat?"

"What? No! What are you talking about?" I shouted as I shook my head.

"Bella, you can be honest with me. Everything said to me is confidential. But I need to know. Are you eating?"

"Yes I am eating, I eat all the time. I love food, Mrs. Clearwater. It appears you are suggesting I have an eating disorder and that I do not!" I continued to shout and then ended up in tears.

"Oh, Bella, I wasn't trying to upset you dear. I am simply trying to help you," she said in a soft tone as she handed me a tissue.

"I would like to return to class, Mrs. Clearwater."

"Okay, Bella, I will walk you back to class."

I returned back to class right as the lunch bell rang. I grabbed my lunch and made my way to the cafeteria. I joined my usual lunch group at the circular table by the window. I took my seat next to Jessica Stanley and began to unpack my lunch. I could feel everyone staring at me like they were waiting for my next move. I looked down out the corner of my eye and Jessica inched closer to me.

"What is it?" I whispered.

"Mrs. Clearwater pulled all of us into her office this morning. She asked us if you were going to the bathroom room after you finished your lunch. And she asked if you were eating. We all told her that you eat but she kept pressing on. I told her she should be asking you these questions," whispered Jessica.

"What is her deal? She's making it out to seem that I am Bulimic or Anorexic. And I am not."

I ate my lunch in silence. I could feel the pressure around me, their stares and whispers and I suddenly felt like an outcast. I threw out my trash and made my way outside for break. I sat alone on the swings and cried in silence. Something didn't feel right. I kept getting flashes of heat running through my body, my stomach was doing back flips, my lips were dry and I felt an unnerving rush rip through me.

I suddenly felt sleepy and dehydrated. But how could I be thirsty again? I just drank a soda with my lunch. I made my way inside the school and went straight to the water fountain.

I walked into the bathroom and looked at my face in the mirror. I was beginning to not recognize the person staring back at me. Who was this girl? She's not me. Her eyes were sunken in and her face was drawn. Her clothes hung loosely as if they were too big, even her arms were as tiny as they had ever been. I did not know this girl, and now I was just as scared of what was happening.

The bell rang and I went to my next class. At the end of the day, I was called to the office yet again. This time the school nurse asked me to follow her to the health room. She sat me down and began to ask me some questions. I answered them and then she weighed me. I was in shock to see I had lost so much weight. I am an average weight kinda girl; I have never been super skinny.

The nurse shook her head and looked at me with concern and worry. She immediately picked up the phone and called my mom. Evidently Mrs. Clearwater had already contacted her earlier in the day and advised her of her concerns. The nurse told my mom that it would be best if she could get me into the doctor's office as quickly as possible today because something was obviously wrong.

My mom came and picked me up shortly thereafter and took me right to the doctor's office. We were in the waiting room for what seemed hours. She told me of the conversation with Mrs. Clearwater and her concerns. My mom questioned me once about my eating habits and such. I told her the same thing I told Mrs. Clearwater and she believed me. She said she was thinking the worst, she's afraid it could be cancer. She squeezed my hand tight and told me whatever it was, we would get through it, together.

My name was called and we made our way to the room. The nurse weighed me and took my height measurement. I heard her gasp and it sent a shiver down my spine. This couldn't be a good sign.

We were led into the room and were told the doctor would be with us soon. Dr. Glass had been my pediatrician since birth; he was a gentle kind man and about my mom's age. I began to get sleepy again and rested my head on my mom's lap as she rubbed my hair. A few minutes later, Dr. Glass entered the room and had me sit on the examination table. He asked me how I was and not to worry, that he would get to the bottom of this and I would be fine.

"Bella, you have lost a dramatic amount of weight since your psychical eight weeks ago. Your face is drawn, your eyes are sunken in and you are very skinny my dear. Why don't you tell me how you have been feeling?" said Dr. Glass.

"Well, I am thirsty all the time, like I can never quench my thirst no matter how much I drink. I use the bathroom a lot and at all hours." I didn't want to admit this but I had a feeling it needed to be said. "I have wet the bed a few times," I said as I started to cry.

"Bella, there is nothing to be ashamed of sweetheart. Its okay, we're gonna fix…this, " said Dr. Glass as he rubbed my hand. "Have you been vomiting?"

"Yes, but not on purpose. I don't make myself puke. It just happens, I swear."

"Calm down darling, no one is accusing you. I am just trying to make the best diagnosis. Bella, I am going to have the nurse come in and draw some blood. I need to run some basic lab work. I am going to put a rush on it, but it will still take about a half hour to get the results. I have a gut feeling that I know what this is, I have seen this many times. Bella, I believe you may be diabetic sweetheart. Mrs. Swan is there a history of diabetes in your or your husband's family?" he asked.

"Oh thank you, Sweet Jesus!" exclaimed my mother. "I was terrified it was Leukemia. I do have a nephew that has juvenile diabetes but other than that, there is no one else on either side. "

"What does this mean? There is a kid in my class that is diabetic but I don't understand it."

"Bella, diabetes is a condition where your body is not able to regulate levels of glucose also known as sugar in the blood, resulting in too much glucose being present in the blood. Your pancreas is what produces insulin which is what regulates your blood sugar. In diabetics, their pancreas no longer produces enough insulin to maintain the proper glucose level. Therefore, they have to take insulin shots, monitor their sugars and follow a special diet. I will tell you more once we get your blood work processed. The nurse will be in shortly," he said and walked out the door.

"Mom, I'm scared," I whispered.

"Bella, baby, there is nothing to be scared of. We will do whatever the doctors say needs to be done," she said as she hugged me.

The nurse came in moments later and drew four vials of blood. I began to feel sleepy again, so I lay down on the examination table and slowly drifted to sleep. Dr. Glass entered the room about a half hour later with the results.

"Well, Bella, I was right. It is indeed Juvenile Diabetes. Your blood sugar level came back at 556. How do you feel sweetheart? That level is very high and you are close to being comatose."

"I am nauseas, thirsty and tired. Please fix me, Dr. Glass." I begged.

"Okay, Bella, this is what is going to happen. You are going to go to the hospital; they are going to admit you. You will then meet one of the Pediatric Endocrinologists, Dr. Peter O'Rourke. He and his team will work to get your blood sugars under control and educate you and your parents on diabetes and what you will be dealing with on a daily basis. You will be in very good hands sweetheart," he assured me.

"We will fight this together, Bella. Your father and I will support you every way we can. You're a fighter baby," she said as she kissed my forehead.

We left the doctor's office and went straight to the hospital downtown. My mother called my dad and updated him on what was going on. He told her that he would meet us at the admitting office after he packed me a bag from the house.

We lived in small town called Forks, located in Washington. Population 3,120 and everybody knew everybody including their personal business. I think it's a requirement for you to be nosey to be a resident of Forks.

My dad, Charlie, was the Chief of Police. I admired my dad for his strength and his dedication. I wished I could say that we were as close as I'd hope to be, but he always put work first. He was a provider, and I would even call him a work-aholic. Maybe with the discovery of my condition it will bring us closer. Maybe.

My mom, Renee, was the town Realtor and housewife. I wouldn't say that mom and I were super close, but I now I could rely on her and I could talk to her when needed. The only problem was she was always so wrapped up in work and herself that she's not always there when I seemed to need her. But I've learned to deal with that.

My dad met us just as they were taking us to my room on the children's unit. I had never been here before. It was so bright and cheerful, not scary and dark like I imagined it to be. The attendant wheeled me into room 2310. The room was spacious, equipped with a recliner, a couch, a TV even a microwave and a mini refrigerator. And of course the typical hospital bed. The nurse came in and helped me change into a gown and placed me into bed. Moments later another nurse arrived. She drew more blood and started an IV. She advised me that it was a mix of fluids and an Insulin drip. She let me know that my sugar was at 572 and she would need me to urinate in a cup to check for something she called ketones.

My head was spinning, so much was happening, and to be honest, I was terrified. I had never been in the hospital and I had never been this sick.

As I got up from the bed with the nurses help, I was suddenly hit with a tidal wave of nausea. My body went limp and I leaned over vomiting onto the floor. I began sobbing as I wiped my mouth.

"Please make it stop. I don't want to feel like this anymore," I said staring up at my nurse.

"Its okay baby, we're gonna get you feeling better real soon," she said as she rubbed my back.

The other nurse called for a custodian to clean up the mess I made on the floor and to disinfect the room. Kelly, my attending nurse, brought me a cup of water and a bedpan and helped me clean out my mouth. She wiped my face with a cool washcloth and said we would try going to the bathroom again in a little bit. She told my mom and I that what I was going through is called Ketoacidosis.

She said that people with Juvenile Diabetes lack enough insulin, a hormone the body uses to process glucose (blood sugar) for energy. When glucose is not available, body fat is broken down instead.

As fats are broken down, acids called ketones build up in the blood and urine. In high levels, ketones are poisonous. This condition is known as ketoacidosis. Blood glucose levels rise (usually higher than 300 mg/dL) because the liver produces glucose to try to combat the problem. However the cells cannot pull in that glucose without insulin.

Nurse Kelly helped me to the bathroom and I gave her a urine sample. She tested it and said I had a large amount of ketones in my urine, which was why I am vomiting. She increased the amount of insulin and electrolytes that were pumping through my IV and brought me some ice chips. Shortly after, I fell asleep. I was woken up two hours later to have my finger pricked to test my sugar. The nurse's aide said it was down to 389. she asked how I was feeling and said Nurse Kelly would be in shortly.

Dr. Peter O'Rourke came into my room about seven am. He introduced himself to my parents and I. He reviewed the log of blood sugars and stated that I was improving more and more each hour. He sat down and briefly went over the ins and outs of juvenile diabetes. He told us that a diabetes educator would be in to see us soon. He said they would teach me how to give myself my own insulin injections and that my parents would be taught as well. He advised us that a dietician would also be in to see me either today or tomorrow to go over meal planning. I would now have to eat 3 balanced meals and 3 snacks. I would also be checking my blood sugar at a minimum of six times daily, more if I was feeling "off".

All of this information was making me tired, and it was hard to keep up. Dr. Peter said he would be in tomorrow morning to check my progress and to answer any questions we may have.

I spent the next three days learning what to eat, when to check my sugar, how to inject myself and what the signs were of high and low blood sugars. I experienced my first low blood sugar and that was anything but fun. I was very shaky, a bit confused, had cold sweats and was very moody. I could tell I would not be a fan of the lows. Mom and dad learned how to give injections by practicing on an orange and using saline. Mom was very apprehensive about and dad was going full force ahead. I could tell if I needed them to give me a shot, I was going to ask dad first for sure.

Dr. Peter said normal blood sugars should be between 80-180. Anything less was considered low and anything higher was considered, well high.

After the intensive training and my blood sugars were regulated, I was discharged and sent home. I had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Peter in two weeks, but if something was to happen or my parents had any questions we were to call him at anytime.

The next few months were not easy; I had to learn a whole new lifestyle. I had to learn to be different and adjust my life accordingly. I had to try to accept that I would never be the same. I would always be bound to shots and glucose monitors. Everything from now on would be about Bella's blood sugars or can Bella do this activity with her being diabetic? I was no longer just Bella Swan. I was Bella Swan the diabetic. My life was now consumed by this condition, and it was causing an influx of emotions.

It was basically announced in every class that I was diabetic. Oh the looks I got when I brought out my morning snack. You would think none of the other kids ever got to eat. It's just crackers and sugar-free Koo-Aid you fools, it's no steak and potatoes!

I always had to stop by the nurse's office before lunch to check my sugar and to take my insulin. I hated if my sugar went low or high and I had to check my sugar because I would have to be excused from class. Eighth graders can be just as nosey as the adults in this town. I constantly felt eyes on me, watching my every move.

Checking my sugars was such an inconvenience to me. Pricking my fingers didn't hurt, it was just such a repetitive action and I hated doing it. My mom packed my lunch and it was always "diabetic friendly". Ugggh. Again…different. And if it was a kid's birthday, I was always singled out. I was so tired of hearing, "Bella can't eat that."

I don't like being told what I can and cannot do by people that are not my parents.

I tried to hide from these emotions, I tried to hide from my diabetes, and I tried to hide from myself. That was nearly impossible. When you have a condition such as diabetes, you are under the microscope at all times, by everybody. My mother was constantly asking me what my sugar level was and if I had eaten and taken my insulin. I know it's because she cares but at times I felt like I couldn't even breathe.

So I learned how to shut her up, to tell her and my father what they wanted to hear. I would pretend that my blood sugars were perfect when, in fact, they were way out of control. I figured I could keep the appearance of normality up. I was wrong. I was admitted numerous times for ketoacidosis and each time the doctors would ask how my blood sugar control was. I would lie through my teeth saying they were good. Little did I know they could run a test called Hemoglobin A1C that measures how tightly controlled your blood sugars were for the previous 3 months. I was screwed. There was no way to outrun this disease. But I wasn't about to give up trying to.

I hid everything: my thoughts, my feelings, my emotions and my fear. This disease was wearing on me and by the time Christmas rolled around, I hit a wall and I hit it hard. I hit an emotional low I had never hit before.

I didn't want to go through this anymore. I didn't want to be different. I wanted to be normal again. I wanted things to go back to the way they were. The only way I knew for that to happen was to give up.

I said good night to my parents, told them I loved them and went upstairs to my room.

I woke up in the ICU with tubes and wires in me. I looked over at my mother's tear-stained face and my dad's blank stare. Everything was a blur. What happened? Why am I here? My head was spinning and I couldn't slow it down. My mother ran to my bed and began kissing my face and thanking God that I woke up. My dad kissed my hand and said he would get the doctor.

The doctor came in and checked my vitals and said by first glance everything looked normal. I had been in a coma for three days. I could hear the doctor and my parents talking, everything was so fuzzy. I heard mentions of an empty insulin bottle and syringe and how my mother had found me. What did this mean?

And then it hit me.

That was my first attempt of leaving this world.

That was the first time I came to the conclusion that I hated myself. I hated the changes in my body. My immune system was now weak so I got every cold, every illness that went around. I hated being the sick girl. I just wanted to be normal. I couldn't understand why this had to happen to me. What did I do to deserve this life sentence? I figured the easiest way to remedy this was to just leave, for good. I wondered who would miss me, who would know, would anybody show up to my funeral? Would anybody cry, would anybody understand that I just couldn't go my entire life like this? It was a reoccurring thought that wouldn't leave my mind. Even after I attempted my departure, the thought lingered. I had an internal battle with myself that never ended.

I began psychological therapy and was evaluated. I was severely depressed and the psychologist said it was due to the stress of my diabetes. Yet again, I was pushed from normalcy.

**EPOV**

I held Bella as she slept, her body jumping and randomly shaking. She began mumbling in her sleep and then it turned into tears. I tried to wake her but her tears turned to sobbing. I leaned down and kissed her tear-stained cheeks, whispering in her ear that I was here and to just let go.

"Don't leave me Edward, please," whispered Bella.

"I will never leave you baby. I love you. All of you. Come back to me baby, wake up," I said as I kissed her forehead.

"Edward," she said as she opened her eyes.

"What is it love? I am here."

"The nightmares are back and I'm scared. I don't want to relive it again. I can't," she sobbed.


	2. Open Your Eyes

**A/N: Leah42683 and Kaydee1005 I couldn't do this without you both. AndrewsLove0491 i adore you completely.**

**smyers09 you have been amazing and your support is mind blowing. I love the three of you dearly.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>It's the way that you blush when you're nervous<br>it's your ability to make me earn this.  
>I know that you're tired,<br>Just let me sing you to sleep.**_

**EPOV**

Bella's insulin pump started beeping, alerting that her sugar was dropping. I silenced the alarm and suspended her pump, stopping all delivery of insulin. I shook her gently to wake her up.

"Bella, baby, wake up. We need to check your sugar," I said as I sat her up.

"Ok," she grumbled.

I grabbed her glucometer from the nightstand and inserted the test strip. I pressed the lancet device against her finger and released the trigger button. I gently squeezed her finger, placing a drop on the test strip. Bella laid her head back and closed her eyes. She was paler than usual; she was shaking and clammy.

Ten seconds passed, and her machine beeped stating her sugar was 44. I opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out her glucose tablets. I opened the container and took out three grape flavored tabs.

"Baby, you're low. Open your mouth you need to eat these."

Bella slowly chewed each one and drank some water to help get them down. I rechecked her sugar fifteen minutes later to make sure it was heading upward. Her meter read 82. I restarted her insulin pump and lowered her back down to sleep.

I climbed in next to her, lying on my side watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful, but at the same time, she looked empty. What this disease has done to her body, her mind and her spirit was so wretched.

We were on our first official date when I found out about Bella being diabetic. We were at dinner, and she told me she had something important to tell me. She took out her glucometer and placed its case on the table. She said she would understand if I wanted to walk away after her admission. I became nervous and confused as to what she could tell me that would make me want to leave her.

"Edward, I am a diabetic. A very brittle diabetic," she whispered as she rubbed her hands together.

"Okay. But, why would that make we want to walk away from you, Bella?"

"I get sick. _Alot_. And my diabetes tends to scare people off."

"Why would anyone ever leave you because you're diabetic? That doesn't make sense."

"Give it time. You'll see. My ex-boyfriend left me while I was in a coma on Christmas Eve. He had dinner at my parents' house and asked them about my diabetes and how often I get sick. They told him that I get sick quite often and that it required attention. A lot of attention. He said he just couldn't handle me being sick. He tried to love me, but he couldn't accept all of me. I am not perfect. I never claimed to be. I am full of flaws. I never asked to be this way, but this is me. Take it or leave it. So I guess you could say I just want to know how this is going to go."

I grabbed her hands and held them tight. "I'm not scared of your condition. I know I just met you, but there is something about you that is drawing me in and I don't want to let go."

The next day I Googled diabetes. I read articles at the American Diabetes Association's website, and I went to the library downtown. I knew I needed to take the initiative and educate myself on Bella's condition. I needed to show her that I want to know all of her, including her diabetes. I needed to do this for me, I needed to do this for her, and I needed to do this for us.

I had only known her for a week, but I knew that I loved this woman. I needed to be around her all the time. Her energy, her aura, everything about her lured me in.

**Renee POV**

_Flashback to Bella Age 15-Freshman Year of High School_

"CHARLIE!" I yelled.

"She's done it again! Call 911!" I screamed as I stared at the empty insulin bottle and multiple syringes that laid on the nightstand.

_Why, baby? Why?_

Charlie called 911 and ran into Bella's room, slamming the door back hard enough to leave a hole in the wall. He climbed onto the bed and began giving her CPR. I ran downstairs and grabbed the emergency glucagon kit and Bella's glucometer. I checked her blood sugar, and it was 31. She was comatose. Charlie injected the shot of glucose into her hip. He felt for her pulse, but it was barely there.

"The ambulance is taking too long! Let's get her in the cruiser and get her to the damn emergency room! I will do anything to save my baby girl! I'm scared, Renee!" Charlie yelled as his hands shook.

Charlie carried Bella down the stairs while I grabbed clothes for Charlie and me.

While Charlie sped thru town, I called the station and let the dispatcher know that we were taking her to the hospital ourselves and they could cancel the ambulance.

"Charlie, what are we going to do? This is her fourth attempt. Damn it. What if she doesn't make it this time?" I sobbed.

"Renee, don't talk like that. She'll be fine. We have to stay calm!" Charlie yelled.

I was in the back seat holding Bella like she was my newborn child. I began singing _Sunshine You Are My Sunshine,_ while stroking her hair.

"Come on, baby. Stay with me. We'll get through this," I cried.

Tears streamed down Charlie's face as his sirens blared. He ran every light in sight. Charlie had tried to instill faith in me but deep down, he thought this was the last time he would see his daughter.

"Hurry the hell up. She's turning blue and barely breathing. For the love of God, go faster damn it! I won't lose her!" I screamed.

Charlie pulled into the Emergency Room entrance and slammed the cruiser into park. He grabbed Bella out of the car and barged through the doors.

"Help me damn it. She's not breathing!" Charlie yelled at the top of his lungs.

A team of doctors and nurses met him in the entranceway and jerked her from his arms, laying her on a stretcher. They rushed her back thru a set of swinging doors. A nurse stopped Charlie and I and told us they would update us on Bella's condition shortly.

_Please baby girl, don't leave me! Pull through. We need you._

I fell to my knees crying, my hands covering my face while I screamed. Charlie slowly picked me up and cradled me in his arms. We sat down in the waiting area and prayed harder than we ever had before.

An hour passed and a doctor emerged from the double doors. He took a deep breath and sat next to Charlie.

"Bella is in critical condition. It has been touch and go since she arrived," he said in a calm yet worried voice.

"There's something you aren't telling us!" Charlie screamed.

"You do know that this appears to be no accident. Bella took enough insulin that she should be beyond dead at this point. She's fighting for her life in there. Her heart has stopped several times."

"We know, but we don't understand why she keeps doing this. Please just tell me she's going to make it. She has to," I cried.

"Mr. and Mrs. Swan, we will do all we can. I must go back and check on her. You can come back as soon as we get her stabilized," the doctor said as he rested his hands on ours before walking away.

I haven't been as religious as I had hoped to be at my age. I was raised Catholic, and I even convinced Charlie to marry me in the Catholic Church- the same church that Bella would be baptized in. I silently began to pray, almost begging God to save my little girl. I need for her to understand how much she means to me. I said ten Hail Mary's and sat back on the chair, curling into a ball.

Hours passed before the doctor emerged once again from the swinging double doors. Charlie woke me and pulled me up to stand.

"Bella is in a coma. She is hooked up to several machines to help her breathe and monitor her heart. She is being moved to the PICU, and you should be able to see her shortly," the doctor said.

Bella was in a coma for five days. Those were the longest five days of my life.

**BPOV**

_**Five days later**_

I awoke and barely knew who I was. The room was empty and began to spin. I heard the familiar beep of the machines mixed with the sound of shuffling feet and phones ringing.

My eyes shifted and slowly scanned the room.

_Hospital._

I tried to speak but I could barely talk. It hurt so badly.

_Feeding tube._

I inhaled and felt cold air through my nasal passages.

_Oxygen._

I could see out the window that it was dark. I wondered where my parents were. What happened? Did I fall? Just then a nurse entered the room and gasped.

"Well, hello there, Isabella. How are you feeling?" she asked as she checked my tubing.

I didn't even try to speak again. I didn't have the strength. I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.

My eyelids were so heavy I couldn't raise them, no matter how hard I tried. I heard voices around me, whispering. They sounded familiar, but I couldn't make out who they were.

I felt a warm hand run through my hair. Their touch so gentle and their scent so familiar. I breathed them in, wanting to be held. I was suddenly scared, but I did not know why.

IIIIIn my mind, I screamed for help. I begged for somebody to take me away. Something isn't right. My heartbeat quickened its pace as my eyes fluttered open.

"And now I believe Miss Swan is rejoining us. Isabella, can you hear me?" questioned an unrecognizable voice.

"Yes," I whispered.

The dark haired woman pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. She placed her clipboard on her lap and started to write.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"My name is Alexandra Davis. I am a social worker. I work with the hospital," she said as she flashed her badge.

_Social worker? What happened? Where are my parents?_

I began to get sleepy again, and my head began to roll.

"Isabella, I would like to ask you a few questions. Do you think you are up to it?"

"I can try," I said as I coughed.

_Ouch_

"Do you know what day it is, Isabella?"

"Please, it's just Bella."

I tried to think about the question. I don't know what day it is. I do know that my head is hurting so bad. Did I fall?

"Bella, are you okay? You look a bit distraught."

"I-I don't know what day it is. What is going on?"

"It's alright,Bella. Today is Sunday. Let's try another question. What is your mother's name?"

"Ummm…Renee."

"Good. And do you know where you are?"

"Forks Hospital."

"And do you know why you are here?"

"I had been sick. Bronchitis. I am assuming I ended up with a severe case of Pneumonia. I remember it hurt to breathe. I have asthma and diabetes so I get hospitalized a lot."

"There isn't another reason you may be in the hospital?" she acquiesced.

_What is this lady's deal? I just told her what I remember. Why can't she just write that down on her clipboard and leave me alone?_

I began to get fidgety and started playing with my IV. Alexandra locked eyes with mine and was watching my every move.

"Its okay, Bella. You can tell me anything. I am only here to help you."

Good lord, this lady doesn't give up. I became very nervous. What was she alluding to?

"All I remember is being sick. Why am I in here? Obviously I answered that question wrong," I said waving my fists in the air.

"How bout I tell you what information I have on you?"

_It's about freaking time woman. _

"Bella, you were diagnosed at the age of 13 with Juvenile Diabetes. Over the past two years, you have been hospitalized three times for attempted suicide. Is this accurate?"

My stomach began to tighten and my face became very hot. Shit. How does she know this? Yes I have done this but it's not like I enjoy talking about it, let alone someone laying out the truth. The truth hurts. My hands became sweaty and the tears were on their way. Oh no. I followed through. Again.

I knew exactly what was about to happen.

"Yes, that's accurate. And I know what you're going to do now."

"And what is that exactly, Bella?"

"Once the doctor's clear me, I will end up on the psychiatric unit - on suicide watch," I said angrily.

"Don't you think that is the best plan?"

"No. I don't," I said as I grabbed at my bed sheets.

"Bella, this is the fourth suicide attempt. Why is it that you what to die so bad?"

"You wouldn't understand!" I yelled.

"I can try."

"Do you have diabetes? Do you really know how it feels? Are you super emotional and depressed all the time?" I spat.

Alexandra didn't say anything. She just stared at me, my fists clenched and tears running down my face.

"My thoughts are consumed of escaping this world, of this disease. Only other diabetics may even start to understand what I go through. And if one more god damn person tells me that all I have to do is test my sugar, follow my diet, take my insulin and I can live a normal life, I will rip their head off!"

Just then my mother and father walked in, followed by a nurse.

"Everything okay in here?" my father asked.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Swan. My name is Alexandra Davis, and I am a social worker here at the hospital," she said as she shook my parent's hands.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Renee and this is my husband, Charlie."

"I was just speaking with Bella in regards to why she is here in the ICU."

"I see. Can we speak with you out in the hall for a minute?" Renee asked.

"Of course."

Alexandra and my parents walked out of my room and closed the door_. Oh to be a fly on the wall for that conversation! I can't wait for them to come back in. Oh yay._

After about thirty minutes, my parents returned without Alexandra. I could tell my mother had been crying and knew this conversation wasn't going to be easy.

"Bella, have you been told how close you were this time?" my mother asked, her voice shaking.

"No," I mumbled.

"You almost didn't make it. The doctors were almost certain they lost you," my mom said as she grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight.

"Bells, what can we do to make this stop? What is it gonna take to make you want to live?" my father asked as he gripped the bed.

"I love you both. So very much. But if you ask me if I have the desire to continue on in this fucked up world, the answer is no."

"I don't get it, honey. What is so bad about your life?" my mother asked.

"If you take out my diabetes and depression then, no, my life isn't so bad. I can't really explain it. The thoughts in my mind say leave, but my heart says stay."

"The social worker says you need to be admitted to the psych ward as soon as possible. And, well Bells, your mother and I agree."

"No! Please, don't send me there," I begged.

"You need help, baby. We just want what's best for you and what will keep you here with us," my mother said.

"How long do I have to stay there?"

"Alexandra said at least two weeks to get your diabetes under control and your meds on track. It could take longer, but that is just what she estimates at a minimum." my father explained.

"When do I go?" I whispered.

"It probably won't be for a few days. The doctors here need to evaluate you and make sure you are in a stable and functional condition," my father said.

"I'll go, but I can tell you right now, it's not going to make a bit of difference," I said as I shook my head.

"Just try. Please. We are here with you. We will support you. We love you dearly, Bella," my mother said.

"This I know. You're always there. Constantly hovering andwaiting for me to mess it all up again."

"Bella! Stop it!" my father yelled.

"Just go. I am done talking about this. Just leave," I said firmly as I rolled over to my side, staring out the dark window.

"This is what's best…"

"How do you know that it's what's best? Have you ever been suicidal? Have you ever been locked in a mental ward?" I screamed as I sat up in the bed.

"Calm down, Bella. And the answer to your entire question is NO. But we are your parents and we are trying to do whatever it takes to keep you alive," my father explained.

"As you know, we spoke with Alexandra and planned out the next step. You are going to be transferred to the children's psychiatric unit where the doctors will regulate your medicines and you will participate in individual and group therapy. We really want you to be able to get to the underlying issue that is causing these feelings. Alexandra said you can expect to be there at minimum two weeks. After that time, we will reassess your needs. You know the drill, Bella. You have been through this before. Your father and I are willing to do whatever it takes to make you better. This is not punishment."

_Obviously they are not getting the memo._

"I said that's fine. Look, I am really tired and this is a lot to take in. I would really just like to sleep now. OK?"

"Yes, that is fine dear. Get some rest, and we will be by in the morning to check in on you. I love you," my mother said as she kissed my forehead.

"Sleep tight, love bug. I love you," my father said as he squeezed my hand tight.

And with that they were gone. That night I cried myself to sleep, begging God to make me have the will and desire to live again.

I was transferred to the psychiatric ward three days later.

As soon as I walked onto the unit, I wanted out of there. I had been through this very same process multiple times.

Karen, a psychiatric nurse whom I had seen in the past, walked me to my room. It looked just like the room I had stayed in eight months ago. All that was in the room was a twin bed and a desk. The bathroom was very small. There was no mirror over the sink and no plastic bag in the trashcan.

"Bella, you know the procedure. No shoe laces, no belts, no draw string pants. And because you are on suicide watch, we have to take your insulin pump. I will lock it up in the office. You will need to change into these scrubs. Your parents dropped off a duffel bag of your belongings. They'll be searched and then brought to your room. Lunch will be brought up shortly. We'll make the announcement, and you can join us in the dining area. I'm sorry to see you back here, sweetheart. We'll get through this, don't worry," she said as she hugged me close.

"Thanks, Karen," I sighed.

The announcement for lunch came, and I headed for the dining area. I sat down at the corner table that was empty.

"Isabella Swan," called one of the aides.

"Right here."

"Come out in the hall, and we'll check your blood sugar."

The aide checked my sugar, and it said 189. That's not bad for me. Of course the aide had her own comments. The nurse came and gave me my shot in my arm. Some people hate shots. I actually liked them when other people did it. It burned a little, and it was almost like a mini-rush.

I went back to the corner table, and my lunch was there.

_Oh yay. A diabetic tray. _

I ate my lunch alone and in silence. I watched some of the other kids as they talked while they ate. I was not in the mood for interaction. You could tell who was on suicide watch and who wasn't by what they were wearing. If they had hospital scrubs on, they were on watch. If they were in street clothes, they had more freedom and were lucky.

After lunch we had group therapy where we all went to the indoor gym located upstairs. You could tell who had been there for a while cause they were in their own little cliques.

Everyone was walking laps. I took a deep breath and began to walk. Alone.

After a couple of laps, I could feel someone inching on me. I turned half-way and saw a pale girl in scrubs. _Suicide watch, just like me. _

"Hi. I'm Brie. You're Bella, right?" said a very tiny voice.

"Hey, yeah I'm Bella."

"How old are you? What ya in for?"

"I'm fifteen. I errr-I attempted suicide. Again."

Fuck. I hate admitting that.

"I'm fourteen. I am a habitual cutter, and this time I took it too far," she said as she held out her bandage-wrapped wrists and kept up with my pace.

I watched her face as she looked ashamed after the words left her mouth.

"I'm diabetic. This is the fourth time I have attempted suicide."

I watched Brie's face as she hung on to every word. It seemed as if my words comforted her-when it was me admitting my selfish act.

"I have been a cutter for the past year and a half. This was the first time I wanted it all to end and actually had the guts to go thru with it. Diabetic, huh? I know a little about it. One of my best friends has it. It sucks."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I hate it so much. I would give my soul to the devil himself for a lifetime of normalcy. No diabetes. No depression. No pain."

"Depression and pain, that I know all too well. People think cutting is a form of pain. It doesn't hurt. It actually feels like it stops the pain from the depression. I feel alive. The deeper the cut, the bigger the rush. Three nights ago, I just couldn't get enough of the rush and I couldn't stop the pain. My mom found me. I still haven't really talked to her about it. I am scared to talk to her about it, but oddly enough, I don't mind sharing it with you."

"I overdosed on insulin. Again. And every time I have failed at my attempt and I end up in the ICU and then in here. Obviously me coming here isn't working."

"You think you'll attempt again?"

"I have no doubt, unless of course you have the cure for this wretched disease."

"I wish I did. And I wish you had the fix-all for my urge to cut, to destroy the ones I love."

Brie and I shared more about ourselves as we walked. We talked about our families, school life, musical interests, favorite movies and hopes for our futures.

Over the next couple days, Brie and I became very close. As we got more comfortable with each other, we opened up more in group sessions. She may not know what I go thru with my diabetes and I may not know what she goes thru went she cuts, but we got each other on a level. Our level.

On the sixth day, my doctor and I agreed it was safe for me to come off of suicide watch. I was so fucking happy when I got to put my jeans and t-shirt on. I had to write out a contract, which I had done prior. It's really just a way to shut them all up. They don't get that these thoughts consume me.

Because I was finally released from suicide watch, I earned more privileges. My parents were now allowed to visit. My parents arrived after dinner when visitation started. We sat in the commons area and spoke of our week.

"We miss you, Bells. We want you home; We need you home," my father said.

"I am working on it, Dad. I'll be home soon," I partly lied. I would be home soon. How I get myself to get home is another story.

"The nurses said that your sugars are almost normal. That is good news. Have you gotten your insulin pump back yet?" my mother asked.

"They said I'll get it back in a couple days. I miss it. I miss my independence."

We talked for an hour and then visiting time was over. I kissed my parents goodbye and met Brie in the break room.

"How was visitation with your parents?" Brie asked.

"It was okay, same routine. I just want out of here. I want to get back to my life."

"I know exactly what you mean. But, I will miss you."

"I will miss you, too. Do you think you'll cut when you get out?" I asked.

"Do you think you'll overdose on insulin when you get out?"

"Yes, but I don't think it will be anytime soon. The immediate urge is gone, but I still hate me. I hate my diabetes. The only cure is to end it all."

"Don't talk like that, Bella. You'll make it. It's not going to be easy, but you will see. Life can be grand. I may not always believe that either, but I have hope. And yes, I do think I will cut. I just hope that it won't get as bad as it got."

We hugged briefly and made our way to our rooms for the night.

**EPOV**

_Present Day_

"Come on, Gavin. It's time to bring mama her breakfast! And we're gonna take her to the park later. Aren't you excited little man?"

"Yes, papa. Can mama go on the swings with me?" he asked.

"If she has enough energy, then it's a possibility. We have to make sure mama eats all her breakfast, okay?"

"Okay. Did you give her a banana? She loves them just like me."

"Yes I did. And I made her peanut butter toast, too. And I put an extra piece on there for you since you like to steal hers," I laughed.

We walked into the master bedroom just as Bella was waking up.

"Good morning, sunshine!" I said as I kissed her on her forehead.

"Mama! Mama! We're going to the park and gonna swing! Eat. Eat. Eat," Gavin pleaded.

"Calm down, sweet boy. Let me take my meds and eat. Then you can help Mama get ready and we'll go," Bella said as she sat up.

Gavin crawled up in the bed with Bella and helped her eat while I opened the blinds to let the sunlight in. As I turned around I saw the light creep over Bella's face. She had the face of an angel. My angel.

Bella finished eating and plugged her blood sugar and carbohydrate intake into her insulin pump. I helped her out of the bed and into the bathroom.

"I can do it, Edward."

"Are you sure you don't need my help?"

"Yes. Please, I feel stronger, and I just want to do it myself."

Bella closed the bathroom door while Gavin and I waited impatiently on the bed.

Fifteen minutes later, Bella made her exit.

"Okay boys. Who's ready to go to the park?"

"Me!" Gavin screamed.

We went outside and made our way to the car when Bella stopped quickly.

"You okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah. I was thinking maybe we could walk to the park. It's beautiful outside."

"Do you have enough energy?"

"Yes. And if I get too tired, you can come back and get the car. Please, Edward," Bella begged.

"Okay. Walking it is then. Gavin, you wanna ride on Papa's shoulders?"

"YESSS!" Gavin yelled.

We spent most of the afternoon by the pond at the park. Bella used all the energy she had to swing with Gavin. It was amazing to watch them. That little boy does so much for Bella and I, without even knowing it. I am so proud to call him my son.

I laid out a blanket by the playground. Bella and I lay down while Gavin played with some of the neighborhood boys.

"Thank You," whispered Bella.

"For what, baby?"

"This. Us. Gavin. Everything," she said as her eyes began to fill with tears.

"Baby, we are the lucky We should be saying 'thank you' to you ."

"I had a voicemail today from a Victoria Childers. Did you call her?"

"Yes. She's a therapist who was recommended by a friend of my fathers. I think she might be of great help, love."

"Why?"

"Because you're not sleeping, and when you do the nightmares are horrific. I think it would do some good to talk about it. A release, to someone outside of family and friends that knows nothing about your past or your present. You choose what to talk about. You control the speed."

"Talking scares me, Edward. It brings up things I may not want to face."

"Baby steps. What is our motto, love?"

"One breath. One second. One heartbeat at a time."

* * *

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